


Saving the little Werewolve

by Mystique1250



Series: The Originals/Readers [1]
Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hybrids, Werewolves, fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 22:42:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16072868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystique1250/pseuds/Mystique1250
Summary: English isn't my first language





	Saving the little Werewolve

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my first language

The wind drives Klaus Mikaelson and moves in his clothes. His cheeks are ice-cold, however, this hardly disturbs him. Instead, he holds the eyes furthermore closed and listens in to the noises round him. The jazz band which stands some metres away on the full street and plays her loud music wraps him in a light sleep and lets him slip out almost in the world of the dreams, there he suddenly hears a voice which penetrates about the murmuring of the people under him away, to his ears. He opens to the heartbeat of the person listening in which hears this voice the eyes, because the fact that there is a heart what really hits lets him stop short, because, otherwise, he can hear from the direction no similar noises. 

Without thinking long about it, he rises to his iron chair and rises on the black railing of the balcony. The urge to find out what is wrong in his Quarter, overcomes him and lets him jump almost as automatically and once more absolutely unthinkingly from the balcony.

As upon order the people make room under him, so that he certainly comes with both feet on the hard concrete ground. Though he feels light pain, that has originated when his soles hit the ground, however, he ignores this feeling rather and puts up the collar of his jacket to hide the face from curious tourists. Of course he could simply also use his superquickness, but, however, this would fulfil too much attention. Though he himself would not find yet so badly, however, Elijah would hold to him a telling-off as again he would be a small boy and this he does not want to do himself really, so he tries to look very dull and usual simply like the other people round him. Of course he is able to do this especially well. Finally, he is Klaus Mikaelson the legendary, everywhere dreaded Old hybrid. If he is not able to do this, nobody is able. 

On and on he follows the heartbeat of the person and notices that he always gets closer, while it feels in such a way as if his heart became quicker start to hit. He tries to talk himself that it only is due to the fact that he really has no desire a fight and, instead, time with his small daughter in this time spend, however, it creates not particularly. The justice sense which he has developed meanwhile as a king is sometimes really eerie to him.

Around a corner bending, the tone is in his ears almost so loud that he would best tear off them to himself. There, in the small lane into which he has just turned stands a young woman. Round them several men have positioned themselves. Their radiant white, sharp teeth polish themselves in the light of the half moon which also the young woman seems to have noted. The shivering of her tender body is hardly to be overlooked. You stick their soft hair to the forehead which is covered by cold sweat. 

Immediately it is clear to him what has it with her on itself. It is a Werwölfin and was probably crowded together by the vampires. Finally, the wolves from the Quarter were already expelled some years ago and know, actually, also by itself that it badly for them is to be shown up here. What does she do here? 

In a moral conflict caught, he stares for few seconds as fascinatedly just at the situation and tries to decide what he should make. "Hey Jungs, leave alone them", he decides to answer for the girl. Finally, he also was not sometimes more than just a werewolf, before he became the old vampire. He would also often have wished this help at that time, finally if his father has beaten up him once more.

"What does he wants here?", asks one of the Men silly and looks at his mate. "He means himself once more to be allowed to add and only because, it is the bastard of the old witch", laughs the appealed. 

Properly feels Hybrid how his head colours red, while him the control leaves. This reaches to him! With his supertempo he runs to the cheekier, closes his fingers firm around the neck of the man and pushes shut. He feels like the veins and the windpipe under the pressure go out of shape and become narrower and narrower. Briefly before he can rob, however, completely of the breath the man, he lets go and swings, instead, with the hand in such a way as if he tried to hit a ball with the level hand. Skilledly he gets a certain place in his neck and separates the head from the rest of the body. The round head flies against the wall, bounces off and lands somewhere round him. 

When the head only few metres of the scrared woman arises, a fright shout which hunts a cold shower about the back to him escapes from her throat. Fortunately, the other guy takes fast split by which Klaus can turn, finally, of the Werewolve.

Their timid look lets him tremble easily, which is why he tries to put on a warm smile that is absolutely unusual for him, and you stretch the hand there which is not smeared with blood. To him has not struck at all that she has sunk to ground. She seizes the hand rather halting and strokes one of her strands from the face to herself with the other hand. The colour of her eyes enchants him almost when throws in only one short look. 

"I am Klaus", he fancies not normally friendly and wipes the blood of his hand in his jeans in. "K Klaus?", she rakes uncertainly after: "Klaus Mikaelson, the old hybrid?" "Exactly that", he answers grinning: "And how is your name?" "I'am Y/N", she also fancies and tries to manage also a smile. "What does a Werewolve makes in the French Quarter?", he states his interest. "Is it so evident? I am in search of my family", she bites the lip and immediately it feels in such a way as if a dream of butterflies fluttered in his stomach: "One has told me, they would be here, but there I have probably been wrong. " "I do not know whether your family is here, but now maybe it would be better if you come with to me", he suggests. "Why should I do this?" her right corner of mouth walks upwards and now it manages a really real smile: "Finally, I do not know them and if I am mistaken not completely, they are no vampire of the zarmen kind. " "Hybrid please", his friendly grin changes into an amused grin. "Even more badly", she comments. He puts on a look offended played: "I am sure that you will not find me at all so bad if we know ourselves once better, dear. "

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a comment!


End file.
